Page 78 of Heart Over Heels

I was a soldier, for God’s sake. I saved lives. Surely I could manage a conversation with my ex-wife.

“I have rights, Rachel,” I said. “And I want them. I want visitation. I want to see my daughter.”

“You think you’re ready for that?” Rachel asked.

“Yes,” I rushed to say. “I have been for a while. I’ve got a place and a steady job.”

It didn’t bear mentioning that my job was bouncing at a strip club; I’d fight that battle when we got to it.

With a rough swallow, I continued. “I want her to see where I live and know she’s got a room here, that she’s welcome.” I paused. “That she’s wanted.”

Rachel expelled a long sigh. “Where’s this coming from?”

“The heart, I think,” I said then sobered. “I love her, Rachel. You know that. Don’t you think she should too?”

“She knows…” The lack of conviction in her voice cut me deep.

I waited while she thought on it. After a moment, she responded with increased certainty.

“Look, this isn’t simple. Molly’s settled. She has a good life…”

I’d heard the excuses, and I prayed they were true. I wanted Molly to be happy and thriving. But I wanted those things for myself too, and I was starting to realize that having my daughter in my life was the only way to get them.

“I don’t want to be a ghost to her,” I said. “I don’t want her growing up thinking I didn’t care.”

The line went quiet with only the faint crackle of connection between us.

Finally, Rachel replied, “I’ll think about it.”

“Soon?” I pressed and was met with a huffed breath.

I was pacing the garage now, wearing a track in the floor while Rachel deliberated. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I spoke again.

“Rach—”

“Summer starts in a couple of weeks,” she interrupted. “Maybe then?”

“Yeah!” My fist pumped before I could rein myself in. “Yeah,” I repeated more evenly. “That’s great.”

Rachel sounded less than convinced, her voice thinner, distracted. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah.” I bobbed my head as if she could see it. “That’s all.”

It was everything.

“Okay, then,” she murmured. “I’ll call you.”

The line went dead, leaving me with the echo of my own nod.

I curled my hand around the phone and circled the garage while the gravity of what just happened caught up to me. I couldn’t sit. Couldn’t breathe right. My chest felt too tight and my heart too full. The only thing I wanted—the only thing I could think to do—was tell someone, and the first person who came to mind was Darby.

But I didn’t have his number.

I shook my head and smiled. Tonight, I would get his number and give him my news.

I could hardly wait.

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